For By My Glee Might Many Men

Winter Song The Browns, The Olives, And The Yellows Died, And Were Swept Up To Heaven; Where They Glowed Each Dawn And Set Of Sun Till Christmastide, And When The Land Lay Pale For Them, Pale-snowed, Fell Back, And Down The Snow-drifts Flamed And Flowed. From Off Your Face, Into The Winds Of Winter, The Sun-brown And The Summer-gold Are Blowing; But They Shall Gleam With Spiritual Glinter, When Paler Beauty On Your Brows Falls Snowing, And Through Those Snows My Looks Shall Be Soft-going.

These Men Are Worth Your Tears. You Are Not Worth Their Merriment.

For By My Glee Might Many Men Have Laughed, And Of My Weeping May Something Have Been Left, Which Must Die Now.

I Don't Ask Myself, Is The Life Congenial To Me? But, Am I Fitted For, Am I Called To, The Ministry?

Strange Friend,' I Said,'here Is No Cause To Mourn.' 'none,'said The Other,'save The Undone Years, The Hopelessness.whatever Hope Is Yours Was My Life Also; I Went Hunting Wild After The Wildest Beauty In The World.